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Till I grew stone, as they seemed half to be,
Yet breathing stone, for I felt life in them,
And life in me: there was a horrid kind

Of sympathy between us, as if they
Had lost a part of death to come to me,
And I the half of life to sit by them.

We were in an existence all apart

From heaven or earth- And rather let me see
Death all than such a being !

Myr.

And the end?

Sar. At last I sate, marble, as they, when rose The Hunter and the Crone; and smiling on meYes, the enlarged but noble aspect of

The Hunter smiled upon me--I should say,

His lips, for his eyes moved not-and the woman's
Thin lips relaxed to something like a smile.
Both rose, and the crowned figures on each hand
Rose also, as if aping their chief shades-
Mere mimics even in death-but I sate still :
A desperate courage crept through every limb,
And at the last I feared them not, but laughed
Full in their phantom faces. But then-then
The Hunter laid his hand on mine: I took it,
And grasped it—but it melted from my own;
While he too vanished, and left nothing but
The memory of a hero, for he looked so.

Myr. And was: the ancestor of heroes, too,
And thine no less.

Sar.
Aye, Myrrha, but the woman,
The female who remained, she flew upon me,
And burnt my lips up with her noisome kisses;
And, flinging down the goblets on each hand,
Methought their poisons flowed around us, till
Each formed a hideous river. Still she clung;
The other phantoms, like a row of statues,
Stood dull as in our temples, but she still
Embraced me, while I shrunk from her, as if,
In lieu of her remote descendant, I

Had been the son who slew her for her incest.1

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1. [For the story of Semiramis and Ninya, see Justinus Hist., lib. i.

cap. ii.]

161

Then-then-a chaos of all loathsome things
Thronged thick and shapeless: I was dead, yet feeling-
Buried, and raised again-consumed by worms,
Purged by the flames, and withered in the air!
I can fix nothing further of my thoughts,
Save that I longed for thee, and sought for thee,
In all these agonies,—and woke and found thee.

Myr. So shalt thou find me ever at thy side,
Here and hereafter, if the last may be.

But think not of these things-the mere creations
Of late events, acting upon a frame

Unused by toil, yet over-wrought by toil

Such as might try the sternest.

Sar.

I am better.

Now that I see thee once more, what was seen
Seems nothing.

170

Sal.

Enter SALEMENES.

Is the king so soon awake?
Sar. Yes, brother, and I would I had not slept;
For all the predecessors of our line
Rose up, methought, to drag me down to them.
My father was amongst them, too; but he,
I know not why, kept from me, leaving me
Between the hunter-founder of our race,
And her, the homicide and husband-killer,
Whom you call glorious.

Sal.
So I term you also,
Now you have shown a spirit like to hers.
By day-break I propose that we set forth,

And charge once more the rebel crew, who still

Keep gathering head, repulsed, but not quite quelled.
Sar. How wears the night?

Sal.

180

There yet remain some hours

Of darkness: use them for your further rest.
Sar. No, not to-night, if 'tis not gone: methought
I passed hours in that vision.

Myr.

Scarcely one;

190

I watched by you: it was a heavy hour,

But an hour only.

[blocks in formation]

Sal. That slave deserves her freedom.
Sar.

Freedom only!

Your patience

That slave deserves to share a throne.
Sal.

'Tis not yet vacant, and 'tis of its partner
I come to speak with you.

Sar.

How! of the Queen?

Sal. Even so. I judged it fitting for their safety, 200 That, ere the dawn, she sets forth with her children For Paphlagonia, where our kinsman Cotta1 Governs; and there, at all events, secure

My nephews and your sons their lives, and with them Their just pretensions to the crown in case

Sar. I perish-as is probable: well thought

Let them set forth with a sure escort.

Sal.

Is all provided, and the galley ready

That

To drop down the Euphrates; but ere they

Depart, will you not see

Sar.

My sons? It may 210

Unman my heart, and the poor boys will weep;
And what can I reply to comfort them,

Save with some hollow hopes, and ill-worn smiles?
You know I cannot feign.

Sal.
But you can feel!
At least, I trust so: in a word, the Queen

Requests to see you ere you part-for ever.

Sar. Unto what end? what purpose? I will grant Aught-all that she can ask-but such a meeting.

1. [See Diod. Siculi Bibl. Hist., lib. ii. 80 c. Cotta was not a kinsman, but a loyal tributary.]

VOL. V.

G

220

Sal. You know, or ought to know, enough of women, Since you have studied them so steadily," That what they ask in aught that touches on The heart, is dearer to their feelings or Their fancy, than the whole external world. I think as you do of my sister's wish; But 'twas her wish-she is my sister-you Her husband-will you grant it?

Sar.

But let her come.

Sal.

Sar.

"Twill be useless:

I go.

[Exit SALEMENES.

We have lived asunder

Too long to meet again—and now to meet !
Have I not cares enow, and pangs enow,
To bear alone, that we must mingle sorrows,
Who have ceased to mingle love?

Sal.

Re-enter SALEMENES and ZARINA.

230

My sister! Courage:

Shame not our blood with trembling, but remember
From whence we sprung. The Queen is present, Sire.
Zar. I pray thee, brother, leave me.
Sal.

Since you ask it.
[Exit SALEMENES.
Zar. Alone with him! How many a year has passed,1
Though we are still so young, since we have met,
Which I have worn in widowhood of heart.
He loved me not yet he seems little changed—
Changed to me only-would the change were mutual!
He speaks not-scarce regards me-not a word,
Nor look-yet he was soft of voice and aspect,
Indifferent, not austere. My Lord!

i. The MS, inserts

(But I speak only of such as are virtuous.)

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1. [Byron must often have pictured to himself an unexpected meeting with his wife. In certain moods he would write letters to her which were never sent, or never reached her hands. The scene between Sardanapalus and Zarina reflects the sentiments contained in one such letter, dated November 17, 1821, which Moore printed in his Life, pp. 581, 582. See Letters, 1901, v. 479.]

Sar.

Zarina !

Zar. No, not Zarina-do not say Zarina. That tone-That word-annihilate long years, And things which make them longer.

'Tis too late

Sar. To think of these past dreams. Let's not reproachThat is, reproach me not-for the last timeZar. And first. I ne'er reproached you. Sar. And that reproof comes heavier on my heart Than-But our hearts are not in our own power. 250 Zar. Nor hands; but I gave both.

Sar.

"Tis most true;

Your brother said

It was your will to see me, ere you went
From Nineveh with(He hesitates.)

Zar.

Our children: it is true.

I wish to thank you that you have not divided
My heart from all that's left it now to love-
Those who are yours and mine, who look like you,
And look upon me as you looked upon me

Once but they have not changed.

Sar.

I fain would have them dutiful.
Zar.

Nor ever will.

I cherish

Those infants, not alone from the blind love
Of a fond mother, but as a fond woman.
They are now the only tie between us.

Sar.

Deem not

I have not done you justice: rather make them
Resemble your own line than their own Sire.

I trust them with you-to you: fit them for
A throne, or, if that be denied—You have heard
Of this night's tumults?

I had half forgotten,

Zar.
And could have welcomed any grief save yours,
Which gave me to behold your face again.

Sar. The throne-I say it not in fear-but 'tis
In peril: they perhaps may never mount it;
But let them not for this lose sight of it.
I will dare all things to bequeath it them;
But if I fail, then they must win it back

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